So I had my first crash this past weekend. 31st El Tour de Tucson. It has never rained in the 31 year history, and that was about to change. We had rain, temps in the mid 50’s and breezy. I got to the start line with 10 minutes to spare. No way was I standing in that weather for a spot up front. It wasn’t about the clock this year; it was about getting to the finish in one piece. Had a great pace going heading for the home stretch, when it happened. The first rider went down, then the second, the third, and then me. It happened so fast yet I still see it in slow motion. Ass over tea kettle, still clipped in when I landed. Got up slowly, and looked around to see how everyone was. Girl, that went down first, was still on the ground complaining of a wrist injury. Other riders gathered and medical support was on the way. Ok now I have to figure out how to get to the finish with a sliced front tire. I muttered to another rider, that it looked like my day was over. He points over to the SAG vehicle that had now arrived, and there it was. In the back of the truck was a bike with a good front wheel. Walked over, tapped on the window and asked the rider in the truck if I could borrow his front wheel to get to the finish. He asked my bib number and I his. He let me take it, and off I went. We met at the finish line and exchanged wheels. Dude, saved me for sure. Came away with a bruised left hip and knee.

I'd probably break at least one bone due to the bone density loss I am reminded of every time I get an X-ray and near certainly get another concussion. I don't have to hit my head for that. The other LBS. (Loose brain syndrome.) Good reasons for me to stay away from pacelines, I won't ride an event I cannot ride solo the whole distance. Plus side? The view is a whole lot better!

Ben, actually rode pretty much solo to that point, because of the conditions. Water rooster tailing off the back tires. Couldn't really sit in behind anyone. The head wind at about mile 75 is what sucked me into being part of the pace line.

Huck, this was the first time since I bought the bike, that it had been out in the rain. As the words "mother %@#er" rang from my mouth in mid air. All I could think of was my bike getting injured. That morning as I pulled the bike out of the car in the pouring rain. I asked Ernesto Colnago, to forgive me for what I was about to do.

Many years ago, I was riding my early clinchers (late '80s after15 years of sewups only). Pouring rain. Went down the steep descent and around the fairly tight bend at the bottom. This was a regular ride for me. Backed off knowing I was not on great tires. Still, halfway through the turn I could feel the tires starting to go. I said a very loud "%@#" knowing exactly what was in store for me. Hit the deck and slid, racking up the injuries I knew were coming. Came to a stop and as I was picking myself up, an attractive young woman came around the corner who certainly heard my expletive.

"I realized I was approaching maturity when I had a dog take me out at high speed and after I quit tumbling and came to a stop my first reaction was to do a damage assessment on me, not my bike."
Dale - you must be really old ; )